Ohana ficlets - Love and War
by MissSlothy
Summary: These Ficlets are in two series - Love and War. This is the 'War' section. The original versions (which are mild slash) are posted on Archive of Our Own. A friend asked for a non-slash version of the War ficlets so here they are. Summary: Something triggers a memory that Steve would rather forget.
1. Chapter 1

"Please don't walk away from me right now."

Danny's voice hitches on the first word and it almost makes him stop.

Almost.

Striding out of the kitchen he heads for the front door, not wanting to hear what else Danny has to say. His mind doesn't let him off that easily though, replaying the scene in a continuous, vicious loop. Danny's plea. The begging. The way his partner's face had crumbled as he'd turned away, how he'd coldly dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

Climbing into his truck he slams it into drive and guns it down the driveway. The rear swings out hard as he turns onto the highway and he corrects, swearing under his breath as the drivers around him show their displeasure with their car horns.

 _Fuck_ Danny. Fuck his worrying and his nagging and the way he was always there, no matter which way he turned.

Learning to trust people again was supposed to make things _easier_. Dropping his personal barriers, handing his heart to his Ohana and trusting that they would treat it with love and respect: that was supposed to give him a better life than he'd had with the SEAL teams. That's what the partnership counsellor had been trying to teach him. He understood that.

So he'd tried. He'd tried so, _so_ hard.

Watching Danny struggling to hold their partnership together as he'd felt himself slowly start to come apart though, that was a million times harder.

He doesn't realise he's crying until a drop of liquid slides down a knuckle on his left hand. Looking down he sees his fists clenched tightly around the wheel, so tight the skin on his hands is bloodless and pale. With a start he realises he doesn't know where he's going or even where he is.

Slamming on the brakes he pulls over, earning him more horns from upset drivers. He's only dimly aware though, the panic that's been bubbling up inside his chest for weeks taking over again, robbing him of his breath, making his vision dim around the edges.

It's a natural reaction to what happened to you. You survived an extremely difficult situation and it's your body's way of dealing with the stress.

That's what Danny had been telling him before he'd walked out. And he'd ignored him. Because of course he fucking knows what this is.

He's been here before. And he'd dealt with it fine on his own. What he can't deal with is how this is affecting Danny.

He can't do this to the man he calls his brother.


	2. Chapter 2

"What if this doesn't get any better?"

Pulling out a chair Chin sits down beside Danny at the kitchen table. Taking a moment to marshall his thoughts before answering his friend's question he studies him, feeling his heart clench painfully at what he sees.

Steve's been good for Danny, just as much as Danny has been good for Steve. But what's happening now, it's threatening to rip his friends apart. And he doesn't know how he supposed to help them.

Hunched over the kitchen table, a mug of rapidly cooling coffee clutched close to his chest, Danny looks weary to the bone, his blue eyes clouded with fear and exhaustion.

When he'd last seen Steve the day before he hadn't looked any better. It's like they're sucking the energy out of each other. The thought hits him like a blow, makes him suck in a breath, reach out to touch Danny gently on the elbow, to reassure himself as well as his friend.

They will fix this. They have to fix it.

With hindsight he wonders if there's something he could have done earlier. The hostage situation at the bank, Steve's part in the death of the young girl. They'd all been aware that it had triggered something in Steve's mind. Something dark that he didn't want to share.

Not even with Danny.

So they'd let it go at first. Even when Steve had started coming into work each morning with slumped shoulders and tired eyes that hinted at sleepless nights. They'd worked round Steve's moments of distraction, pretended not to notice when his mind obviously went elsewhere.

They'd let Danny take the lead on it. Stood close, supported him as he tried to help the man he loved like a brother.

But they hadn't done enough. He can see that now.

Distracted, it takes him a moment to realise his cell phone is vibrating in his pocket. Pausing to give Danny's shoulder another reassuring squeeze he heads out to the lanai.

Lou had gone to find Steve, using the GPS tracker on his truck to track down their friend. There's a text from Lou and he feels his knees buckle with relief as he quickly reads it, then pulls up a chair and sits down as he reads through it again.

Lou's taken Steve home with him but it's not a good solution. Danny's insisted though that they can't involve any doctors, that Steve would never trust them again if they did that.

Steve won't even talk about it. Chin knows. He's already tried.

Leaning back on his chair, he peers through to the kitchen. Danny's still where he left him but now he's got his head in his hands, his fingers nervously tugging through his hair.

Taking a shallow, shaky breath he turns back to his phone and starts swiping through the screens. Bile roils up in his throat as the potential consequences of what he's about to do sink in.

This could be the last time he's welcome in Steve's house.

The knowledge stabs him like a knife to the heart.

Turning his back on Danny he finds the number for the therapist at Tripler and presses 'Call'.


	3. Chapter 3

_"I'm only mildly scared out of my mind right now_."

Lou repeats the words silently to himself over and over, a calming mantra designed to quell the growing sense of panic that's threatening to overwhelm him.

As a tactic it fails dismally.

He's never actually _seen_ Steve angry before, he acknowledges, watching with increasing horror as the scene in front of him unfolds. Sure, he's been in situations with his friend when he knew Steve was angry. But anger for McGarrett is usually a form of energy. It focuses him, gives him purpose, enables him to see solutions where there is chaos.

It gives him the strength to make decisions that other people aren't strong enough to take.

But at this moment that Steve is a distant memory. Lieutenant Commander McGarrett is _angry_.

And it scares the crap out of him.

How Chin is managing to stand there and not flinch is beyond him. Right now he's trapped between the tech table and 180lbs of furiously angry SEAL. The power and aggression that Steve usually keeps tightly locked down is loose, raging like an active volcano. As he looms over Chin, his face twisted with anger, it's like he's five foot taller and carrying at least another 30lbs.

"What the fuck gives you the right to make that kind of decision for me? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Steve—" His body braced like a tree in a storm, Chin's voice is calm, steady. Conciliatory. It does nothing to lessen the torrent of anger being directed his way.

"The Governor called me, Chin. The _Governor_ called because he'd heard that someone in 5-0 was worried about 'my operational capability'."

"I didn't say that exac—"

Chin's unwitting confession acts like fuel on a fire and Steve leans even further forward, holding his right hand high as he stabs out each word with his finger. "Fuck it! You shouldn't have said anything at _all_. If the Navy finds out I'm talking to a shrink this could end my career. You know that, right?"

" _Steve_ —"

"Jesus." It's one simple word but it's dripping with defeat and bitterness. Shoulders slumping Steve steps back, his body suddenly so much smaller as if all the anger has been sucked out of him. "Every fucking time this happens. I knew I should never have trusted you."

" _Steve_." Lou knows that it's shock that makes him blurt out his friend's name without thinking but there's a growing feeling of anger too. He understands that when Steve gets back on his feet he's going to be deeply ashamed of everything he's saying right now. But Chin doesn't deserve this. "He was just trying to help-"

"Stay out of this, Lou."

Steve has a cold, tight look on his face. His voice is low, almost a snarl. Lou can't help himself, he flinches. In front of him Chin does the same. It's the man standing behind Steve who seems to be struggling the most though.

Danny.

With a start Lou realises he'd forgotten he was standing there. When Steve had stormed into HQ like a hurricane, he'd headed straight for Chin by the tech table. But Danny had been right behind him, his expression equally angry.

Now they're standing a good few feet apart. But it's not Steve who's got Danny's attention. It's Chin. The two men are staring at each other, their eyes locked in silent communication. Danny's conflicted, Lou realises, his heart clenching in sympathy as he looks closer at his friend's face. Danny's angry on Steve's behalf. But he's glad Chin did it, that he made that call.

Turning his attention back to Steve, he feels his heart sink even further. Steve's watching his partner, his eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown. It's obvious the cogs in his head are turning and Lou already knows that the conclusion he's coming to isn't going to be a good one.

"Please tell me you didn't know about this, Danny."

The look of utter anguish on Danny's face is enough to make Lou instinctively take a step forwards but Chin gets there first.

"He didn't," Chin insists, pushing forwards with both his body and his words as Steve shakes his head in denial. "He _didn't_. He told me he was worried about you." Taking a shallow, shaky breath he widens his gaze to include Danny. "We were worried about both of you. You're both hurting. I just wanted to help."

For a second Lou thinks Chin's worked some sort of zen magic. Steve's head dips down, almost in submission, but when it comes back up again he realises how terribly wrong he is.

"You giving relationship advice now, Chin? If I remember correctly your track record with relationships isn't that great either."

There's silence for a second. A hard, cold silence. And then all hell breaks loose.

Afterwards Lou's not sure how he got round the tech table so fast. He can remember grabbing Chin's arm, the slick feel of blood on his friend's hand where he'd split Steve's lip. The way he'd had to use all of his body weight to pull Chin back. The sudden flash of a blue shirt as Danny had got between them, hands on Steve's chest, pushing his partner back time after time until he was over the other side of the office with Danny right up in front of his face.

He can't remember a time when he's seen Danny so angry.

"You wanna hit something, then hit me." Danny's panting with exertion but he keeps going, punctuating each of his words with a shove to keep Steve moving backwards. "Am I happy he went behind your back? No. But he had the balls to do it when I didn't."

"Danny, I can't—"

"Steve." There's a desolate note of finality in Danny's voice that stops Steve's protest dead. With an exhausted sigh Danny slumps, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Resting his hands on his partner's arms he shakes him to get his attention, tugging insistently as he stiffens, tries to resist. "You need help, Babe. Please. We can't keep going on like this."

Rigid, Steve stares over his head, his lips locked in a tight line. "I don't need help."

"Please."

Beside him Lou feels Chin look away and he finds himself doing the same. Tears are sliding down Steve's face. He's not even sure his friend is aware that he's crying.

"And if I don't, what are you going to do?"

"Babe—"

"Are you going to leave me? Are you all going to leave me?"

The words are whispered, barely audible from the other side of the office but they still hit Lou like a physical punch. Steve's brain is mis-firing and the only way he knows how to protect himself is to strike out. But his behaviour is pushing him closer towards one of his greatest fears.

Abandonment.

Right now, he realises, blinking away rapidly forming tears of his own, his friend is very, very afraid.


	4. Chapter 4 - Don't look back

"Don't look back."

The soft, small hand in his grips tighter at his words and he squeezes back, hoping he can reassure the child beside him. Even if he's not feeling very reassured himself.

She's leaning against his knee as they walk. Terrified, her little body is shaking and instinctively he pulls her closely, moulding her around his lower leg, using his own long strides and momentum to get them moving. To get them to the entrance of the bank building and safety.

Behind him he can hear the heavy, panting breaths of the injured man who had taken the bank customers hostage. Wounded by the bank's security guard he's taken a bullet to the chest and he's bleeding profusely. It's clear he's not going to last much longer. That soon he's not going to have enough strength to carry on holding down the trigger button on the home-made bomb he's holding.

Resisting the urge to ignore his own advice and look back he steers them to the left to avoid the body of the security guard who had bravely tried to protect them. Eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling its obvious he's dead. Squeezing the little girl's hand he pulls her faster, his heartbeat mirroring the increasing speed of his legs.

He could run, he thinks, just grab her up and run with her under his arm football-style. But the man's spooked enough as it is, his hand shaking on the trigger. One wrong step now and it would be over. In a flash.

In front of him, through the door he can see police cars and blue flashing lights. The bright sunlight outside is almost blinding but he can pick out Danny and Chin, crouched behind a car. Beside them is the little girl's mother, her face twisted with fear, blood running down the side of her face.

She'd begged to be allowed to go in the bank when the hostage taker had agreed to let her daughter go but her daughter, frozen with fear, wouldn't come out. There was no way he could let her do that. It was just a matter or whether it would be he, Chin or Danny who went in to get her.

He couldn't let them do that either.

They're a few paces away from the doorway and every sense is screaming at him to run. The man behind him is mumbling now, harsh, bitter words that experience is telling him to get away from. Fast.

Grabbing her hand tighter he swings her up by one arm, ignoring her pained protest as he uses the other to push the door open.

We made it, he thinks.

And then the world tilts crazily as he's pushed up and over by a hot rush of air, a deafening bang robbing him of his hearing, and then there's heat and dust and he's still moving.

When he hits the ground with a crunch he's already losing his grip on consciousness. His training might be yelling at him to get up, to defend his position but he's got nothing left. As everything goes grey then slowly black he has one last coherent thought.

He should have run.

H50H50H50

When he comes to again the world has gone crazy. He's curled up sideways on the sidewalk and just in front of him he can see the tyres of the police cars. The loud ringing in his head is familiar - he's been here before. So is the taste of blood in his mouth, the sharp grittiness of dust in his eyes. He's blessedly numb but he knows that won't last forever, tries to take breaths to prepare for the pain he know is about to come.

Blinking painfully he tries to focus as Danny appears, kneeling beside him, his mouth opening and closing silently. There are hands on him, checking him over but he shifts impatiently, needing to see one thing.

Lifting his head he finally finds her. Lying on her back, several feet away from him, the little girl looks like she's sleeping peacefully. Until he notices the pool of blood spreading out from behind her head.

As he explains to the therapist several weeks later, he's pretty sure that's the moment that triggered everything off.

H50H50H50

"Steve. Are you with me, babe?"

Squinting, he looks back over his shoulder. He's sitting out on the beach in the midday sun he registers vaguely, baking hot sand burning through the thin fabric of his shorts. He should move, get under cover. He's too exposed out here.

"Steve?"

His heart is thundering like a steam train, it feels too large for his chest. Despite the heat he's shivering. And his brain is adamant that his partner shouldn't be here. Wrong place, wrong time, it's telling him. Only he's really not sure where here is.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Danny advancing slowly. It's like a mirage appearing: it's something he desperately wants to be real but deep in his gut he knows it's going to disappear.

All senses on high alert he watches as Danny drops to the sand, legs crossed and then slowly reaches across, a bottle of water in his hand.

The condensation on the bottle glitters in the sun, enticing. Despite himself he reaches out to take it, licking his lips as he imagines what the cold water will taste like. Nothing like the warm, slightly muddy tasting water he's been carrying in his rations for the last few days.

"Steve?"

The bottle's solid between his fingers, cold, wet, just like he imagined it would be. And the warmth of Danny's hand curled gently around his feels very real too.

"Danny?"

The hand around his clenches and he forces himself to focus, on the warm skin and the cold bottle. They're real, he repeats to himself in a silent mantra. They're now, not the past. Unlike the little girls in Afghanistan who have been at the centre of his recent flashbacks.

He'd screwed up then as well. Misjudged the moment, been too slow to react. And then he'd just locked the memory away in a corner of his brain and forgotten about them, like they were nothing, not worthy of being remembered.

As Danny leans forward to catch his gaze, his eyes full of understanding and compassion, he can feel his heart slowing, his breathing gradually evening out. The overwhelming feeling of shame and failure is still there though, so strong it physically hurts.

He's never been so angry with himself.

TBC


End file.
